


So tell me what you want when you want more

by kittenmichael



Series: Undress [1]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Come as Lube, Dom/sub, Humiliation, M/M, Pain Kink, Restraints, Spanking, Sub!Cal, dom!ash, everyone just has sex in the band i suppose, i feel so dirty after writing this jfc, lashton and malum are mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 15:37:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4751735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenmichael/pseuds/kittenmichael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So eager,” Ashton hisses. “Want me to fuck you? Press you into the mattress and use you to get myself off?”</p><p>Calum is still struggling to breathe, lungs savouring whatever air he gets past his swollen lips, jaw trapped in Ashton’s grip. Ashton’s fingers travel to his chin, thumb wiping away some of the blood. It presses down on Calum’s lip hard. His nails dig into the tender skin, surely breaking it and drawing even more blood. Calum just kneels further, let’s Ashton guide and kneed him. He gets pliant in Ashton’s hands. By now, he has accepted that he’s entirely at Ashton’s mercy.</p><p>or, Calum and Ashton have hot BDSM sex for the first time</p>
            </blockquote>





	So tell me what you want when you want more

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dafeedil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dafeedil/gifts).



> thanks to clingyluke, honestlyclifford and oneletterandathousandwords  
> apparently i need constant love and reassurance when writing smut  
> (this took me over half a year to write)
> 
> dedicated to dafeedil bc she's the queen of bdsm in this fandom

“Have you been waiting for me, pretty boy?”

 

Calum nods, not sure if he’s allowed to talk. The cheap carpet burns under his bare knees, as he’s kneeling in front of the bed. His gaze is lowered, it has been for twenty minutes now. Ashton is late.

 

“Eager, huh?” Ashton comments, his voice deeper than usual when he walks towards him. Calum hasn’t seen his face yet, has seen nothing but his bare feet and this _fucking_ carpet since he entered this room. His hands, which are tied behind his back, are numb by now, and so are his legs, but he doesn’t dare complain. “Come on, now.”

 

Ashton’s hand goes straight for the back of his panties, using them to lift him up and Calum moans out at the _pain_ pleasure _pain_ , his legs spreading unintentionally when his groin touches the soft duvets as Ashton throws him on top of them. With his hands still tied, he lands face-forward, ass up in the air for Ashton to grab and smack as he wishes.

 

Ashton was right, Calum _is_ eager. He moans and whimpers when he grinds against the sheets, humping the fabric pathetically, desperate to chase the friction he’s been craving. The touch makes his toes curl, sends shivers down his spine, and he feels his dick _hurt_ with how needy he is.

 

Ashton laughs at him, intimidating and ridiculing, and Calum’s moaning is stopped short when he slaps his ass. Calum can already imagine the redness, the shape of Ashton’s huge hands covering most of his butt cheek, and _fuck_.

 

“Hasn’t Michael taught you any manners?”

 

He hits again, and Calum can hear the sound resonating through the room. Ashton climbs on the bed behind him, body looming dangerously over Calum’s as he leans down to whisper in his ear.

 

“You don’t make any sounds unless I give you permission. You don’t move unless I give you permission. Your body is mine for the night, Calum. Understood?”

 

His tongue is licking into Calum’s ear, his words sending shivers down his spine. When Calum doesn’t answer fast enough, he accentuates them by pressing his hand against the flaming skin of Calum’s bum, squeezing hard with his nails digging in. Calum bites his lip to keep himself from whining, nodding eagerly at Ashton’s commands.

 

“Speak.”

 

His thighs are shaking, groin desperate for friction, but he doesn’t want to disappoint Ashton. It hurts to push the words past his trembling lips, moans and whimpers threatening to slip through as soon as he opens his mouth.

 

“Yes, daddy.”

 

Ashton smacks him again. Calum clenches his eyes shut as he bites down on the pristine white blankets to keep from calling out.

 

“I’m not your daddy. Call me Sir.”

 

“Yes, Sir.”

 

Ashton leans away, steady hands trailing down Calum’s glistening back, and Calum gulps for air, finally feeling like he can breathe again. It turns into a gasp when Ashton’s fingers curl into his hair, tugging so forcefully Calum’s lip starts bleeding with how hard he bites down on it. His thighs enclose around Calum’s head, and all of a sudden Ashton’s dick is less than an inch apart from Calum’s face. He’d never seen it from up close, had only managed a peek here and there when Ashton gave up his privacy in the name of _banding._ It looks so much bigger now though, the proximity both frightening and exciting Calum, and it takes all his willpower not to stick out his tongue and taste the precum that is painting the white fabric of his boxers. Calum sees it twitch, goes cross-eyed staring at the way it’s trapped by Ashton’s underwear, mouth watering and breathing heavy.

 

“That’s better,” Ashton whispers, voice thick and dripping with an artificial kind of sweetness that sends the faded dull pain of his bum soaring back to life. Ashton’s breaths come out as pants, as heavy as his hands where they’re brushing through his hair. “Now open up.”

 

Calum feels light-headed, watching wide-eyed as Ashton frees his cock, wincing a little when it smacks his face before slapping against Ashton’s stomach. He cranes his neck, desperate to catch a glance of this new Dom.

 

Ashton releases one hand from his hair, using it to force Calum’s mouth open and feed him his cock. It tastes bitter on his tongue, but Calum swallows it down anyway, eager to please as he always is.

 

He admires the way Ashton’s eyes clench shut, mouth agape and moans escaping his swollen parted lips. Did he make out with Luke before coming here? Is that why it took him so long?

 

Calum hollows his cheeks out, lips wrapping around Ashton’s cock, and he watches Ashton shudder above him. His fingers fumble in his hair, sharp tugs making Calum’s own dick twitch, and fuck, he wants nothing but to rut against the sheets, but he’s so desperate to be good, be good for _Ashton_. The boy looks like a god above him, sweaty curls crowning his face, head thrown back in pleasure and muscled chest glistening sinfully. God, Calum wants to be fucked into the mattress.

 

Ashton’s hips stutter, and he lets himself fall down on the bed, dragging Calum with him by the strands of his hair. Ashton repositions himself, fumbling fingers pushing Calum between his thighs, thrusting up into Calum’s mouth so roughly and so abrupt, Calum is convinced for a moment Ashton forgets he’s not some toy.

 

The thought makes him even harder, his cock straining against the panties Ashton forced him in, wetting the delicate fabric with precum. Instantly, he gives up all control, going limp in Ashton’s grip.

 

“That’s right. Are you gonna be a good boy for me? Let me use your body?”

 

Ashton picks up his speed, thrusting faster and deeper than Michael ever has, and Calum has no choice but to take it. His best friend is fucking his mouth mercilessly; His hands are tied behind his back and his head is stuck in Ashton’s iron grip. Calum focuses on relaxing his jaw, tears blurring his vision. He almost lets out a whimper at the loss of the sight in front of him, but he swallows it down with Ashton’s cock and the ruthless thrusts.

 

Ashton yanks his head off of his dick so roughly it leaves Calum’s head spinning, scalp burning where Calum is sure Ashton actually ripped his hair out. Calum stares at Ashton, still trapped in Ashton’s grip, spit and precum dribbling down his chin. He feels filthy. Filthy and used, and the idea is enough to make him moan louder than ever when Ashton commands him to.

 

“So eager,” Ashton hisses. “Want me to fuck you? Press you into the mattress and use you to get myself off?”

 

Calum is still struggling to breathe, lungs savouring whatever air he gets past his swollen lips, jaw trapped in Ashton’s grip. Ashton’s fingers travel to his chin, thumb wiping away some of the blood. It presses down on Calum’s lip _hard_. His nails dig into the tender skin, surely breaking it and drawing even more blood. Calum just kneels further, let’s Ashton guide and kneed him. He gets pliant in Ashton’s hands. By now, he has accepted that he’s entirely at Ashton’s mercy.

 

“I asked you a _question_ ,” Ashton hisses.

 

“Yes, please, Sir. _Please_ ,” Calum whimpers. “Use me.”

 

Ashton visibly stiffens in front of Calum, one hand tightening its grip on his hair. Broken moans escape Calum when he tugs harshly, dragging Calum’s face closer to his own. His tongue darts out of his mouth, licking behind Calum’s ear.

 

“Keep talking,” Ashton moans, hands trailing down Calum’s bareback. The feeling of his calloused fingertips sends shivers down his spine, toes curling in pleasure when they pinch his sore ass.

 

“My body is yours.” That one earns him a growl from Ashton, deep and animalistic.

 

“I’ll do whatever-” Ashton spanks him again, “whatever you want.”

 

“Spread your legs.”

 

Calum’s head is spinning. His mind is clouded by the pain in his bum, in his lip, in the scalp of his hair. In his legs, whose numbness has only just disappeared. His whole body is burning hot with pain, but somewhere in between the whimpers and whines, it translates into a pleasure so overwhelming it’s clouding his vision.

 

“W-what?”

 

His voice is rough, a result of Ashton’s deep throating. Michael is never quite this rough with him, but Calum wouldn’t want it any other way.

 

“Spread. Your. Legs,” Ashton hisses. He rolls his eyes. “It’s not that hard, especially not for you, huh? Let’s not pretend this is the first time you’re spreading your legs for someone today.”

 

Calum let’s himself fall back on the mattress, spreading his legs as wide as he can for Ashton. His thighs burn at the stretch, but it’s worth it. He wants to be good for Ashton, wants to submit himself entirely.

 

“You’re, you’re right,” he pants. “I’m a, I'm a slut.”

 

“Already all opened up, huh?”

 

Calum nods vigorously, head spinning uncontrollably until he sees Ashton not twice, but three times. He gasps when he feels Ashton’s wet fingers on his rim, immediately pushing past the first ring of muscles. Ashton leans closer, his broad chest looming over him, lips stretched in a devious smirk less than an inch from his ear.

 

“It’s Luke’s,” he whispers, and it sends a shiver down Calum’s spine.

 

Ashton pushes a second finger in, scissoring them briefly before pushing a third in as well.

 

Calum’s back arches off the mattress, and he bites his lip in a desperate attempt to silence his moans. Ashton’s fingers are long and thin, completely different from Michael’s stubby fingers. They may not be quite as thick, nor as trained and flexible, as Michael’s, but they’re _long,_ oh so long. He can feel them near his prostate, missing the bundle of nerves only because Ashton is purposely avoiding it. Calum splutters and whines when Ashton curls his fingers, trying desperately to rock against them so they’d brush against his prostate, if only just _once_. He feels them so close, can almost sense the pleasure that’s about to overtake him, feels it buzzing underneath his skin.

 

Ashton pulls them out with a grunt.

 

“Don’t be eager,” he says, voice low and gravely, soaked in obvious pleasure. “Slaves don’t get to be eager.”

 

He pushes his fingers against Calum’s lips expectantly, and Calum immediately opens his mouth. Of course he does. He’d do anything for Ashton right now. He parts his lips and let’s Ashton push the wet fingers into his mouth, sucks on them obediently because that’s what Ashton expects of him. The taste is salty on his tongue, and his stomach churns slightly at the thought, but Ashton hums appreciatively and Calum swallows his fingers so deeply he nearly chokes on them.

 

Calum honest to god whines when he pulls them out, but Ashton shuts him up with a kiss. It’s clashing teeth and biting and more painful than anything else, but Calum bucks his hips up, chasing the pleasure Ashton is dangling in front of his nose.

 

Ashton enters him without warning, immediately bottoming out, and Calum clenches his eyes shut in pleasure, moans smothered by Ashton’s neck, as Calum’s lips nip at the sensitive skin there. Ashton moans loudly, because Calum is just so _tight_ around him, and he digs his fingers into Calum’s hips.

 

“Fuck, Cal,” Ashton pants. “How are you still so tight?”

 

Giving Calum no more time to adjust, he starts thrusting slowly. His pace is so agonisingly slow Calum finds himself digging his nails into the palms of his hands, fighting his restraints as he desperately tries to keep himself from crying out. The friction inside him is just enough to tease him, makes him shut his eyes tightly and clench his jaw.

 

“Please, Sir. Please,” he whimpers, back arching off the mattress. “Please, go a little faster. This, _fuck_ , this is driving me insane.”

 

Ashton tightens his grip on his hips, fingers pressing into his skin so harshly Calum _knows_ there will be bruises tomorrow. His iron grip keeps Calum from pushing back against his cock, force himself down on it until it finally brushes against his prostate, hard and rough the way he likes it.

 

“No,” Ashton growls, and Calum nearly growls right back. He moans instead, loud and desperate and embarrassing, but he couldn’t care less. Ashton leans down to trace Calum’s collar bones with his teeth, biting here and there until Calum hisses and tries to lean away. The proximity causes Ashton’s chest to rub against the head of Calum’s cock every now and then, and the strings of pleasure that shoot through Calum’s body only leave him desperate for more.

 

“Please, Sir. Please, go faster. I beg of you. Go faster. _Fuck_.”

 

When Calum opens his eyes, head spinning and his vision blurred by tears, he sees Ashton smirking down at him. He can see it before Ashton even opens his mouth, sees the twinkle in his eyes and the arrogance in his smile. Ashton is ridiculing him.

 

“No.”

 

Instead of going faster, he only goes slower. His pace is so slow it almost feels like he isn’t moving at all, and Calum whimpers when Ashton finally bottoms out again. His hands are trapped underneath his body, fingers tingling because the restraints are cutting off his blood circulation, and Ashton is spreading his legs wide open. Calum feels _humiliated_. He wants to hold on to some of his pride, doesn’t want to submit _entirely_ to his best friend, but he can’t help himself. He’s lying underneath Ashton, fucked out with cum and blood and spit on his lips and his ass bright red, and he can’t stop the pleas that are leaving his mouth, as he keeps on begging Ashton to go faster, if only just a little bit. Thick tears roll down his cheeks, which _fuck_ , he can’t believe he’s actually crying. Calum doesn’t think he’s ever felt so embarrassed in his life. Not when Michael tied him up in the lounge room of the tour bus, writhing and whimpering and stark naked. Not when Michael called Niall to help him teach Calum a lesson. It only makes him harder.

 

“Please, Sir. I’ll do anything,” he cries, but Ashton just laughs at him, smirks as he actually _stops._ It’s what drives Calum over the edge. He’s done pleading, done being teased.

 

“For fuck’s sake, Ash! Just _move_ , _goddammit_ ,” Calum snaps, violently pulling at his restraints, trying to escape the grip Ashton has on his hips to create some _fucking_ friction at last. The smirk disappears from Ashton’s lips, turning into a scowl as he honest to god growls at him, deep and animalistic, before pulling out entirely.

 

Calum gasps at the sudden emptiness, whimpering loudly because Ashton pulled out so quickly it _hurt_. He doesn’t get any time to recover though, because Ashton grabs him by his hair, dragging him off the bed and on the floor. His bare knees hit the cold floor tiles with a loud smack, and he gasps in pain, choking on air as he tries to remember how to breathe.

 

Ashton takes pity on him for a moment, but he doesn’t loosen up his grip on Calum’s hair. Calum nods curtly, signalling he’s fine and they can continue their scene. Ashton doesn’t hesitate before dragging him in front of the bed, Calum desperately trying to crawl and keep up, but ending up as even more of a dead weight with his arms still tied behind his back.

 

He sits down on his knees in front of Ashton, the heels of his feet digging into the skin of his sore bum.

 

“Look at me,” Ashton commands, his tone cold and steady. He’s clearly pissed off, Calum can tell by the way his hands are clenched to fists by his sides.

 

“I’m going to slap you,” he says. “Colour?”

 

Calum pauses for a moment, thinks it over in his head. He has trouble focussing and thinking straight, his thoughts all jumbled up with how badly his head is spinning. Michael never slaps him in the face, but right now, looking up at this new Dom, Calum doesn’t think he’d mind.

 

“Green,” he breathes, but Ashton looks unsure. “My colour is green.”

 

Calum imagines seeing himself through Ashton’s eyes. Hair messy and curly, dried come and blood and beads of spit on his chin and his swollen lips parted. His eyes are spread wide open, like they always are when he’s being submissive, his hands tied behind his back and tears rolling down his red cheeks.

 

Ashton slaps his left cheek so hard Calum feels the hand print burning on his skin, and whimpers at the pleasure it brings, at how it makes his cock even harder.

 

“I’m the one in charge here,” Ashton growls. “You follow my commands and do as I say, understood?”

 

Calum nods vigorously, but Ashton isn’t finished yet.

 

“Kiss my feet.”

 

It’s even more humiliating than being slapped and being ridiculed, but Calum doesn’t hesitate before throwing himself in front of Ashton. He’s done being naughty, wants nothing more but to please Ashton and submit to him entirely. That’s all he can think of when he presses open kisses to the top of Ashton’s foot, wetting the skin with his tongue.

 

“Remember what you said before? Say it again.”

 

Calum swallows thickly, resting his forehead on Ashton’s right foot, folding himself up and trying to get closer to the ground because all he wants to do is _obey_.

 

“My body is yours,” he breathes.

 

“Louder.”

 

“My body is yours,” he repeats, voice so loud Luke and Michael might hear him. They might hear how much of a slut he is when it comes to Ashton. It doesn’t matter. Ashton wants him to be louder, so he will be. “I’ll do whatever you want. Please use me, Sir.”

 

“I call the shots here, and you will obey me.” Ashton still sounds angry, clearly ticked off by Calum’s audacity. “Go lay on your stomach on the bed. I’m fucking you from behind this time.”

 

Calum whimpers at that, but quickly scrambles off the floor, nearly toppling over a few times before letting himself fall face first on the blankets. His cock throbs at the friction, and he moans loudly, only angering Ashton further.

 

“So you want it quick, huh?” He asks, spreading Calum’s legs and sitting down between him. Calum bites his lip, pressing his face against the mattress in shame.

 

“Answer me.”

 

“I’m sorry, Sir,” he whimpers. “Please. It’s not my place. I, I know that now.”

 

“That’s right. I tried to be gentle with you, but you wanted it rough. Keep that in mind while I fuck you into the mattress.”

 

Not wasting anymore time, Ashton pushes into him, immediately bottoming out. Calum gasps at the feeling, pleasure shooting up his spine. Ashton lifts Calum’s hips up in the air, so there’s nothing touching his cock anymore. It’s leaking precome by now, the tip an angry red and Calum is so hard it _hurts_ , which only turns him on even more.

 

“You’re coming untouched by the way.”

 

Ashton pulls out again, slamming back into him with so much force Calum’s face dents the mattress. His pace is fast this time, his thrusts so ruthless it’s painful. Every time Ashton’s skin slaps against his, it brings the pain in his bum soaring back to life. He’s not about to complain, though. After all, he asked for this.

 

With his hands tied behind his back there’s nothing he can do to keep his face from rubbing against the duvet, the friction quickly making his skin burn. It only adds up to the pleasure. Ashton’s hands have an iron grip on his hips, his breath hot on the skin of Calum’s neck.

 

“Speak,” Ashton commands. “Let me, _fuck_ , let me hear how wrecked you are.” He’s out of breath, too, the words coming out as pants, breathed against Calum’s shoulder blade.

 

“F-feels so g-good,” Calum whimpers, lips pressed against the duvet. It muffles his words, makes Ashton growl until he removes one hand from Calum’s hips to tangle it in his hair, tugging at the short strands to tilt his head.

 

“Th-thank you, S-sir,” he breathes, breathless and panting. “I don’t, I don’t deserve t-this. You make me, m-make me feel so good, Sir.”

 

The position is awkward, his ass upraised and his head pulled back so far it arches his back, but it feels so good.

 

“F-fuck, Cal,” Ashton swears, lips trailing down his back, skin salty with sweat. “Doing so well for me.” His nails dig into Calum’s scalp, and Calum whines and moans at the same time, too overwhelmed by the feeling to hold back the sound that feels like it’s being ripped out of him. The way Ashton slams into him, very well _ramming_ him into the mattress, makes his thighs ache, his muscles trembling with exhaustion. His arms are nearly numb by now, and his skin is burning, every inch, every spot.

He’s not sure how much more his body can handle, doesn’t know how long Ashton is planning on dragging this out. All he knows is that the pleasure is bridging on pain.

 

“Ash,” he whimpers, the name heavy on his tongue, nearly too hard to push past his bruised lips. It’s too quiet, and it almost gets drowned out by Ashton’s loud moans and pants and the sound of skin slapping skin. But Ashton must have heard, because the nails disappear and Ashton plants his lip at the top of Calum’s spine.

 

“Just a little more, Cal,” he breathes. “Come for me.”

 

Ashton thrusts even deeper, hitting Calum’s prostate dead on every time. Calum’s breathing hitches, and he forgoes all attempts to keep silent and screams when he comes. Ashton rips the orgasm out of him, keeps thrusting even though Calum’s getting sensitive.

 

“Fuck, Sir,” he curses, eyes shut tightly. “Thank you,” he whispers, head still trapped in Ashton’s grasp. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

 

Ashton let’s go of his hair, and he falls face forward on the mattress. The hands at his hips disappear, and Ashton pushes his shoulders in the mattress. Calum hisses at the friction, his cock getting rubbed against the sheets with every thrust.

 

“Please, Sir,” he whimpers, gasping when Ashton silences him by pushing his head down.

 

“S-shut up,” Ashton breathes, clearly close to coming as well, “I’m not d-done using you yet.”

 

Calum bites his sore lip, hands clenching to fists as he fights to take it. The thrusts are ruthless, the bed banging against the wall with every one of them. Ashton comes with a loud scream, filling Calum up until his come starts dripping down his thigh. Calum feels dirty and gross, but he’s too tired to do anything about it.

 

It’s silent in the room for a while. Ashton tries to catch his breath, his body heavy on top of Calum’s.

 

“Are you okay?” he asks when he finally pulls out. Calum winces at the feeling, but nods anyway.

 

“Yeah,” he whispers, still too blissed out to be coherent, “thank you. That was, that was,” he hesitates, searching for words in his dizzy head, “great. Wonderful. Amazing.”

 

Ashton giggles at that. Honest to god giggles, and that’s what brings Calum back to his senses.

 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” Ashton suggests, one hand warm and steady on the small of Calum’s back while he frees him of his restraints. “Do you need me to get Michael?”

 

Calum shakes his head, hissing at the feeling of the rough duvets rubbing against his irritated skin.

 

“Cuddle?” He asks, trying to raise his arms above his head. Ashton stops him before he can.

 

“Easy, easy, you shouldn’t move that quickly just yet, okay? Come on, I’ll help you turn around.”

 

Ashton rolls Calum on his back, seeing as Calum is now no more than a dead weight, eyes half closed and his limbs heavier than lead. He quickly slips out of the room to find a washcloth and some cream, before kneeling next to Calum’s body, knees making the bed dip.

 

Calum winces when Ashton cleans his face with the washcloth, wiping away the spit and blood and _come_. Ashton pulls him in for a kiss when he’s done, gentle and tender, careful not to hurt Calum’s swollen lips.

 

“My handprint is on your cheek,” Ashton says while spreading Calum’s thighs, running the washcloth across his sore bum even though it makes Calum whimper in pain.

 

“Shit,” he deadpans. “That’s hot.”

 

Ashton rolls his eyes, continues cleaning Calum with the washcloth while Calum fights to stay awake. Once every inch of his skin has been cleaned, Ashton applies cream where it’s necessary, presses kisses where the aloe vera isn’t enough to soothe the pain.

 

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

 

Calum pulls at the blankets, ready to close his eyes and start drifting off, when he feels Ashton arms slip underneath his back and his knees, carefully lifting him off the bed.

 

“Where are you taking me?” He whispers, voice muffled by the fabric of Ashton’s T-shirt, while the latter carries him out of the room.

 

“Like I said, to bed.”

 

Ashton lays Calum down on something nearly just as soft as Ashton's skin. It's covering the bed, and Ashton is wrapping him up in it, in softness, in warmth.

 

"I'll be right back, okay? Try not to fall asleep."

 

Calum nods, or he thinks he does. When he opens his eyes, he discovers that Ashton has decorated his bedroom with fleece blankets and pillows. Although the gesture is nice, it does nothing to stop the shivers that are running down his spine, shaking his whole body so roughly Calum thinks he can feel the bed shake. Calum can't help it when tears starting rolling down his cheeks. He's exhausted, mind and body and everything in between. It all hurts or aches in some way and Calum sighs in relief when Ashton finally comes back.

 

"Here, drink this."

 

Ashton's hands help him sit up, steady him when he nearly topples over and push a cold glass against his lips. Calum can taste orange juice on his tongue, and he hums in approval, revelling in the way he feels it glide down his throat. It washes away all the other tastes, makes him feel fresh and clean.

 

"Shit, are you crying?"

 

Calum snaps his eyes open to the sight of Ashton staring at him, looking slightly panicked. Calum is still vaguely aware of the tears streaming down his face, but he can't muster the energy to make them stop.

 

"Did I go too rough? Were you too far in subspace? God, _fuck_ , I never should've slapped you."

 

The panicked look creates such a contrast with the calmness from before that it leaves Calum's head spinning. He tries shaking his head, but decides against it when it makes his stomach churn.

 

"It's okay," he whispers, lips pressed against the cold glass. "I'm fine. Just a little tired." He has to take a deep breath before continuing. His tongue feels too big in his mouth, and he kind of feels like he did any and every drug in the world all at once. "Can we cuddle now?"

 

The familiar request seems to help Ashton regain his composure, and he nods, serious as ever. It's clear that he thinks this part is important, too, that he wants to be there when Calum comes down from his high to kiss his wounds and reassure him.

 

"I'm going to put some ice on your knees, yeah? So they don't bruise," Ashton warns. "It's going to feel a little cold."

 

Calum gasps when Ashton's hand slips underneath the blankets, a hiss escaping him when Ashton presses the icepack against his sore skin.

 

"Sorry, sorry," Ashton murmurs the apologies into the crook of his neck.

 

“Can I sleep now?” Calum asks, and Ashton nods.

 

“Of course,” he whispers. “Get some rest, love. You did great. You were wonderful for me today.”

 

Calum closes his eyes when Ashton wraps his arms around him, successfully engulfing him in his body warmth, making it spread through his body like old paint in a glass of water. He curls his toes at the sensation and hums. Ashton chuckles at that, and he places one of his hands on the small of Calum’s back, the other pressed against his neck to pull him even closer. Calum can still feel his body ache, his knees throbbing painfully and his cheek burning hot, but pleasure lingers as well. Slowly, the tears stop streaming and all tension leaves his body. Ashton places one last kiss on his forehead, before Calum drifts off at last.

 

**Author's Note:**

> please reblog it on my tumblr [here](http://cutesymichael.tumblr.com/post/128589176968/so-tell-me-what-you-want-when-you-want-more-so) and let me know what you think!


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